


I am God.

by AkaneOwari



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Canon storyline, Gen, Kuvira's God complex, One Shot, kuvira is cray cray, no romance and mostly character mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:06:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2596439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkaneOwari/pseuds/AkaneOwari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Chant my name, bow, beg, pray to me! Chant my name, bow, beg, pray to me!” She ended with letting dead silence ring into the air, unaware of how loud her voice had gotten until the final note drifted alone. She didn't notice Baatar's perplexed expression as he lingered in place, before slowly stepping back and away, leaving the door cracked open, not wanting to close it and alert her that he had been watching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am God.

**Author's Note:**

> idk i wrote this in like an hour and i really like the idea that behind kuvira's calm complexion, she's got a serious god complex 
> 
> kudos/comment if you like, please!

It's much easier to rule with force and power than one might imagine. 

Kuvira sat over her desk, her eyes in distant place; the night was a quiet one, as all work had paused. Her grasp over the Earth Kingdom—no, Earth Empire, was finally set. The masses belonged to her, and so to show her gratitude for their loyal, progressive, reasonable hearts, she allowed them a night of reprise...Of course, all the while having her subjects keep a watchful eye for those who dared to disobey. Zaofu had been subjugated, Baatar had fully and utterly betrayed his family, and the last of the open rebels were being captured.

The best of it? It was all so damned easy. Re-education camps were brought into existence so swiftly and smoothly that hardly anyone knew of them; they were a threat to pull to those daring to waver in their sensibility, strong enough to bring a man to pause and to worry. And when citizens found themselves unliking to the labor she put them to, it was as simple as that to convince them how much better they were off. It was practically a riot. Even Baatar, sweet Baatar...The idiot was as close to her as anyone could get, and he was as still blind as a badgermole that couldn't earthbend. 

The corners of Kuvria's mouth pulled, and she found herself with a crooked grin that she couldn't rid. How could she deny it, though? Here she was, sitting with the most power, the largest force, the most intense military in the world...Her accomplishments listing off in her mind, each a tsunami of ego. She had defeated the Avatar, even though the pathetic child had escaped; her army had witnessed it, how she struck her to the ground, and could have very well ended her on the spot if the airbending brats hadn't interefered. But that wasn't a problem, either—the first airbending master in generations had attacked the Earth Empire, and thus would ensue war between the nations. A powerful army versus a small group of barely recovering, once nearly dead nation? 

She had usurped the king with mere words, seeking the approval of the crowd gathered to his coronation. _The Great Uniter! The Great Uniter!_ , they cheered, as if their words actually meant anything. 

They were nothing.

She was everything.

 _I am a God_ , Kuvira mouthed, feeling a flow of power run through her veins. She couldn't have been imagining it, no, she was truly a powerful God! She had defeated the Avatar! Usurped the Earth King and become tyrant of the Earth Empire! She had a loyal army of hundreds, she controlled the economy, she would destroy the Air Nation! She had defeated Su Beifong, torn apart her family, and even crushed the charismatic and weaselly Varrik, before snatching Zhu Li from his grimy and greedy hands. 

No one was a match for her. For she was a God. 

“I am a _GOD_!” The words left Kuvira's lips before she could catch herself, though they rang out with such a pleasing twist that she let them linger. Power in her voice, as well as her veins, she wouldn't doubt if she could start manipulating the earth with her mere tone. She rose up, ungloved hands slowly ghosting atop the table, feeling each crease of the wood underneath. She stood there, one hand resting in place, the other curling in and out at her side; her form, most often kept in pristine posture, rested in a bent shape. And her face, her face held a cruel and wicked grin stretching from lip-to-lip, her calm composure utterly destroyed and bent as she reveled in herself. 

“A God...”

She didn't notice the door creaking open behind her, the noise lost in the mental cheers of worship ringing in her ears; the crowds chanting her names, bowing, begging for her to liberate them; for them to so willingly cast away their lives because she fed them promises of freedom as if it were candy, though they hardly realized that they were just losing it. Kuvira was far too lost in her fantasy to see Baatar's watching form, his knitted brows as he tried to comprehend the scene his fiancee provided for him. 

“Chant my name...Bow, beg, pray to me!” She said the words in a testing manner, as if commanding a crowd gathered around her, flaunting an arm dramatically to the side, her twisting posture jerking upwards as she went to repeat the motion. Deciding that she liked the words, the command, she repeated herself with a flare to her voice, projecting the power she knew she possessed. 

“Chant my name, bow, beg, pray to me! Chant my name, bow, beg, pray to me!” She ended with letting dead silence ring into the air, unaware of how loud her voice had gotten until the final note drifted alone. She didn't notice Baatar's perplexed expression as he lingered in place, before slowly stepping back and away, leaving the door cracked open, not wanting to close it and alert her that he had been watching. 

Kuvira, after long passing moments, let herself sink back into her chair, hitting it heavily. Propping both elbows upon the top, she laced calloused fingers together, chin tilting upwards to rest against the tip of the triangle formed. Her eyes drifted shut, and she collected herself; though she felt little shame or drop of dignity, she was well aware that she'd be unable to run around chanting that...Quite yet, at least. There would be a time that they had no choice, and that most would be willing to shred away their very being to support her.

She's always said so, and most just scoffed in amusement or failed to take her passive warning to an appropriate degree of seriousness. 

_I always get what I want._


End file.
